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Chapter 11: A Second Opinion

Fact: People know a gang rules London. To keep people from revolting, they are either threatened or paid off. Most of the time James and Penelope will make “charitable donations” to the less fortunate.”

It was night time when Marlene finished cooking for Penelope, while her boss listened to music in the next room.

“Dinner’s ready Miss,” Marlene called. Penelope went to eat and Marlene poked at her food, drawing Penelope’s attention.

“Something you want to tell me?” Penelope asked, startling Marlene.

“Sorry Miss. Is the food bad? I can try to cook something else,” Marlene panicked but Penelope grabbed her plate.

“Everything is fine. You just seem to have something on your mind.”

“Oh,” Marlene sat back down.

“Is there something going on?”

“Well… You seemed a little down when you left Mr. Brooks today,” she poked her food again.

“That’s nothing you need to worry about,” she smiled, but Marlene pushed.

“He’s not… him. You don’t have to turn away every man, that makes you happy.”

“Marlene,” Penelope’s voice warned.

“I think he likes you, Miss, I really do and maybe-”

“Enough, Marlene,” Penelope slammed her hands on the table, making her assistant jump in her seat. Marlene did as she was told and shoveled some food into her mouth.

“You remember what they did to us, what she did to us.” Penelope croaked. “If I let my guard down again, she’ll be right there to bury us. And this is different. This time I got ahead of the situation, and we’re better off for it.”

Marlene kept eating so Penelope grabbed her hand and squeezed it, making Marlene look up from her plate. “I’m sorry I snapped Marlene. This dinner looks great,” she encouraged.

Marlene nodded and finished her food. “I’m just… worried about you, Miss.”

“I know. If I’m being honest, I wish he’d dump that twat in the street before it’s too late. But sleeping with the devil seems a lot more fun I guess.”


James readying for bed when he heard the continuous clanks of dishes coming from the kitchen. When he peeked in, Tommy was setting dishes down firmly on the counter when he finished washing them.

“You alright mate?” James asked. Tommy washed the last of the plates and turned around, drying his hands with a towel.

“That depends sir, would you be willing to listen to what I have to say?”

“Depends.” James gave him a look of skepticism.

“Permission to speak freely?”

“Sure. Humor me.”

“You need to end your relationship with Miss Wells.”

James was stunned that Tommy was being as blunt as he was. “I beg your pardon?”

“Sir, you are unhappy.”

“Don’t see what gave you that impression. I’m seeing her tomorrow night.”

“So you can drink, fuck, and come home looking empty.” Tommy exhaled.

“Watch your tone, Thomas,” James ordered.

“Sorry, sir. I just wonder how long you can keep denying who you really love.” Tommy sat the rag down. James turned away and walked to his room and shut the door, leaving Tommy to finish cleaning the dishes. James laid in bed, but he didn’t sleep.


Penelope kept her journal open as she poured ingredients into a human-sized mixing machine. Her father’s recipes were very well renowned, but as Rory said, they did have a high mortality rate if not made with the correct doses. To make sure she had a balance of substances and actual candy ingredients, she cut the number of drugs in half. When she finished making them, she called two little girls to her shop known as the alley cats.

“Good morning Miss Eve,” they greeted in unison.

“Hello, little sweeties. I'm sending you on a special errand. What do you say?”

“Anything for Miss Eve,” they agreed.

“Perfect,” said Penelope. She gave them two bags filled with dark chocolate honey truffles. “The errand is easy. Distribute the candy, but not to the same person. When you have finished, you can have anything in the shop as long as it’s not behind the counter.”

“Right away Miss Eve,” the girls curtsied. They took their bags and left to deliver the sweets through London. When they later returned, Penelope personally greeted them.

“We finished Miss Eve,” they said, showing her the empty bags.

“Good girls. Before I let you go, how did people react?”

“People wanted more of my candy Miss Eve,” said the girl on the left.

“People died right after they had my candy Miss Eve,” said the girl on the right.

“And did you follow the rules?” Penelope put on a motherly tone.

“Of course Miss Eve. No women. No children. No families, Miss Eve,” They answered.

“Wonderful. Alright, you’re free to go,” she gestured to the shelves. The girls ran away to claim their prize and Penelope went back to work.

Meanwhile, James was working on his concoction across the street. When he finished, he called for his delivery boy and another worker from the loading crew. Bentley, who was no older than 13 entered the office with Harry, who was closer to his 30’s. Tommy was making tea as James finished preparing the bags.

“You called us boss?” Harry scratched his neck, revealing the wrapped candy tattoo.

“Yes, I need you and Bentley to deliver some salted toffee around town,” he said, handing them bags.

“How much we charging?” asked Bentley.

“Nothing. Consider it as a trial and error for the sugar trials.”

“That’s a lot of product to just give away, don’t you think, boss?” asked Harry, looking at a large amount of toffee.

“Argue with your boss, and I’m deducting your pay. Now go,” Tommy ordered. The boys almost ran out of the office and later returned.

“How’d it go?” asked James.

“Not too bad. No casualties, but we had mixed reviews about the product,” Harry held up the bags.

“Hm. Back to the drawing board. Thank you, boys, you’re free for the rest of the day if you choose.”

“Nice! Come on Bentley, I’m taking you for a pint,” Harry celebrated, pulling the kid out of the office.

James went back through his books, while Tommy shook his head in disapproval of his worker’s behavior.


“What do you have for me, Mason? And it better be good,” Beatrice leered. A woman was doing her nails as she sat at her desk.

“Of course Miss Wells. From what I’m gathering, Mr. Brooks and Miss Eve are meeting on Wednesdays early in the afternoon. If you pay Mr. Brooks will visit next Wednesday before two pm, I think you’ll have some satisfactory results.”

“Delightful,” Beatrice jeered. “I’ll be there. After all, what kind of girlfriend would I be if I didn’t give my man some attention during the day?”

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